


Dedicated

by corneroffandom



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-06 07:13:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11595555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corneroffandom/pseuds/corneroffandom
Summary: New Nexus was a bust. Heath Slater has other plans for his future, both professionally and personally.





	Dedicated

New Nexus is still, well, new. CM Punk had only taken over the week prior, when Wade Barrett had lost, left with no choice but to go to Smackdown, but already there were hints that it wasn't going to go well for any of the remaining members. Punk had only ever been about himself and, yeah, Barrett wasn't much better sometimes, but his self-absorption had never led to _this-_ initiations where Punk wanted them to beat each other, prove their loyalty to him and his commands. Heath Slater goes along with it as much as the others, despite a growing dread in his gut with each worsening action that they're forced to take upon members of their own ranks.

The final step is when Punk demands that Heath and Justin beat each other down with kendo sticks, the former tag team champions unwilling to do it, almost using the sticks on him. But in the end, they couldn't care less and, throwing the sticks down, leave him behind to head back to the hotel, their futures in the business uncertain now. "What do we do?" Justin asks him, staring over the roof of the car as they hesitate on opposite sides of the car, Heath sighing and shaking his head grimly. "We are so screwed." He grins wryly at the softly accented voice saying such a thing before unlocking the car and slipping inside, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the headrest of the driver's seat, barely blinking when Justin joins him. "We need to think of something. I'm not letting my career get ruined because of Punk's madness."

Heath stares at himself in the rearview mirror, takes in the exhaustion in his brown eyes. How limp his bright hair is, matching how dull he himself is feeling this very moment. The last time he'd felt alive, whole... well... He sits up straighter in the driver's seat. "I know what we have to do," he mumbles, turning a sharp U-Turn that Justin protests and grips his armrest, worried. "Hang on," he orders, hitting the exit that would lead them to where Smackdown is being held that week, a couple of hours away. "We've gotta go see someone."

"Who?" Justin demands, looking at the side of his tag partner's face. "Heath-"

"You'll see," he smirks, spending the rest of the ride entertaining himself as Justin tries and fails to get information out of him, growing more and more aggravated with each passing mile.

"Would you just tell me!" he demands after an hour of trying to cajole, beg, and threaten the answers from his tag partner. "Dammit, Heath-"

"Geez, Justin, you're supposed to be the patient, soft-spoken one between us. I bet you're horrible on Christmas mornin'," Heath comments with a sneer. "Just wait, we're about there." He laughs when Justin huffs and grumbles about where "there" might be, slumping in his seat and staring viciously out of the windshield. Heath says nothing as he finds a hotel, parks, and goes inside, straight to the front desk, walking so quickly that Justin even finds it impossible to keep up with him.

In fact Heath is on such hyperdrive at the moment that he misses the conversation held between his tag partner and the hotel concierge, forced yet again to follow Heath through the lobby to the elevator, stewing over the injustice of it. Once they're alone, he rounds on the brightly haired man and once more demands for answers. Heath's smug grin confirms that no, he's still not going to get the answer he wants, and he glares at him. "Heath, I swear, I hate you sometimes."

He just laughs as the elevator comes to a stop, Heath walking slowly past door after door before walking up to #842 and knocking seemingly without a thought in the world. Justin frowns as he approaches, hoping that Slater isn't just knocking on some stranger's door. Before he can say or do anything, however, Heath knocks a second time, louder and longer, until finally the door is wrenched open, one Wade Barrett glaring down at them, ice blue eyes drilling into them angrily. "What do _you_ two gits want? If this is about how much better New Nexus is than Original Nexus, I don't want to hear it-" He's about to slam the door shut when Heath reaches out, blocking him with his forearm. "Slater, move. Or you'll be without an arm for the foreseeable future-"

Heath sneers at him, pushing past him and entering his hotel room. Wade still looks like he's about to grab Heath, throw him back out, and slam the door on them both, but he begins to talk before Barrett can even get past his shock at Heath's fortitude to do such a thing. "New Nexus sucks," he says simply. "We never wanted to be part of that group, not like this. Punk makes you look like a kitten." Wade begins to look annoyed again but Heath rushes on. "He wanted to initiate us all into the group; had us beatin' on each other. And he wanted me and Justin to use kendo sticks on each other. So we left. 'n' now we're here," he finishes explaining with a shrug. "If you're up to it and all, we'd like to start another group. Something different than Nexus, something for the three of us to all shine in. What do you say?"

Wade squints at him, staying quiet for the longest time. Justin starts inching towards the door, taking his silence as a bad sign, but Heath holds his own, the two men staring at each other. Finally Wade shrugs. "It's not horrible, I suppose. Are you staying in a room here then?"

"Hotel's booked, we already checked," Heath says simply. "We're gonna try another place in a bit." Justin frowns at this but stays quiet, not sure if perhaps Heath _had_ called ahead at some point and also not wanting to risk this tenuous agreement in case he _was_ lying.

The Brit groans, staring at them shrewdly. "Don't bother. I have room here for you gits. Just don't make a lot of noise. I'd rather not kicked out of here before morning."

Justin watches as Heath smirks, as if expecting this answer, and settles in on a nearby couch to watch whatever show Barrett had left on the TV when he'd gone to answer the door. "There's only one bed," Justin mutters after a moment, raising an eyebrow when neither man seem bothered by the prospect. "Guys?"

"I don't plan on sleeping much tonight, you two can argue over it," Wade announces, barely blinking when the other two former Nexus members stare at each other, Heath making a face.

"Just take it," Heath tells his tag partner. "I have some things to discuss with Wade anyhow." Justin shrugs and heads off to the bathroom, not wanting to argue with the ginger's oddly generous offer, leaving them to sit awkwardly on either ends of the couch, Wade glancing towards him sometimes as Heath stares impassively at the TV, picking at his leather wrist band idly.

"A discussion usually means words, Slater," he finally says impatiently, lips pressed thinly together as the ginger glances over at him. "I know Gabriel is vain but even he won't take long enough in the bathroom for your brain to work well enough to think of how best to word whatever's on your mind. So just spit it out already."

Wade's just noticed the smirk on the other man's face when he lunges forward and, cupping the back of his head, seizes his lips in a kiss, the British man's eyes wide as Heath clings to him, everything in Wade urging him to push the other man away, snap at him for this moment of idiocy, but something stops him- he realizes he's actually _enjoying_ it, and even worse, begins responding hesitantly, getting into it more and more with each passing moment. Eventually the younger man pulls away, wiping at Wade's lips with a wide grin, and settles back on his side of the couch, crossing his arms over his chest like nothing just happened.

Dark blue eyes locked on him, he shakes his head. "What was that?" he croaks, barely aware of the water still running in the bathroom.

"I thought you were the smart one, Brit. It's called a kiss," he shrugs. "Has it been that long for you that you've forgotten?"

"Oh shut up," he snaps. "I don't understand _why._ What-" but before he can figure out what exactly he wants to ask, the shower squeaks to a stop, sounds of Justin shuffling around in the bathroom, preparing for bed, reaching them, and he clamps his mouth shut as Heath turns his attention back onto the TV, a self-satisfied kind of smirk on his lips.

Justin comes out, glancing from Heath to Wade and back again. "What did I miss?" he wonders blandly, digging through his bag for some clothes to wear to bed. When neither say anything, he straightens up and frowns at them, tugging a shirt on. "All of that, huh?" Shrugging, he slips into bed and turns his back to them. "Good night, then."

"Night," Heath says. Wade remains quiet, his arms crossed over his chest as he looks suspiciously over at the younger man. "Take a picture, Barrett, it'll take longer," he smirks.

"Like I would ever waste the film on you," Wade snaps back, rolling his eyes.

Heath grins. "Who wouldn't, in all honesty?" He sneers, leaning closer. They're almost within kissing distance again, Barrett about to snap at the younger man, his eyes flickering over to where Justin is laying, when Heath reaches around him and grabs the remote, immediately turning the TV to some ridiculous American animation. Wade blinks at him, almost feeling... disappointed... before realizing the knowing grin on Heath's face that has absolutely nothing to do with the lame attempts of _humor_ on the television screen. He glowers, turning stubbornly to look out of the window at the world revolving outside of the hotel.

It's only when the show ends that Heath leans closer and stares at him until he turns to yell at the ginger for annoying him when he finds himself being pushed back against the couch by the other man, kissing him firmly until he sinks back against the cushions, holding Heath tightly by the shoulders, eyes fluttering as bright orange hair tickles his skin. "I hate you," he grumbles, eyes opening once Heath allows some distance between them again.

"That's what you call it, huh," he mumbles, smirking as a quick, _almost_ unreadable expression passes across Wade's face before he catches himself, returning to his standard stoic stare. "The feeling's mutual, Brit."

Ultimately Ezekiel Jackson joins them as the muscle of the newly named Corre, and the four men alternate hotel room partners, all four of them letting their chemistry as a group grow naturally by spending more time together, sometimes Wade rooming with Justin and sometimes with Zeke, but it's the nights that he rooms with Heath that end up the most interesting to the observant Brit. The first few weeks, Heath seems content with sneaking kisses that appear to be growing longer and softer with each passing day in the locker room, at the hotel, or sometimes even in the car when it's just them, Wade slowly coming to expect the random bits of unexplained affection from the insane ginger. But barely a month into it, he grows more brazen, Barrett fighting insomnia as always when Heath's bed creaks and a moment later, Wade's mattress sinks down a little bit, the sheets shifting as an arm wraps around his midsection, causing him to freeze for a whole new reason.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Slater?" he growls, closing his eyes against the warmth, his skin tingling where Heath's pressed against.

Heath says nothing for a few moments, letting his fingers trail along Wade's tense shoulders, down his chest. "You're grumpy and miserable when you can't sleep. Just thought I'd try to help." As if guessing what Wade's thinking, he presses closer to him and breathes softly, tickling his skin with each exhale. "You toss and turn a lot when you're fightin' insomnia, these hotel beds are far from quiet. It'd be impossible to not notice." He presses a faint kiss between Wade's shoulder blades, smirking as the Brit shudders despite himself in response.

"And you think having your spastic, loud self wrapped all around me is going to help?" he demands, trying to push the other man off of him. "I think not. Now go back to your own bed." Heath doesn't respond, merely clinging tighter, and the taller man all but flails to free himself. "Slater, I swear to God!"

"See, this ain't helpin'. Now would you stop fighting this and listen to me?" he asks, sounding almost amused as he presses another, longer kiss to his flushed neck, Wade immediately freezing at the sensation. "Close your eyes."

"Hell no," the British competitor huffs, not sure what Slater is smoking. "I close my eyes for no one." But when Heath's hand rests on his abs, just below his heart, his breath stutters and he feels his eyes fluttering. "Let go of me."

"Nope." Obstinate as ever, the ginger grazes his skin with blunt nails, smiling as Barrett hisses in annoyance. "C'mon, Brit. Close your eyes." He can tell when the taller man finally listens, his whole body all the more tense as he gives in.

Wade twitches and breathes loudly as Heath's lips linger against his flushed skin, his fingers trailing almost soothingly against his chest. "Stop," he mumbles, hating how his voice sounds unconvincing even to his own ears. "Slater, I mean it-" But he doesn't, he really doesn't, the soft touch soothing him and the faintly wet, warm pressure against his neck and shoulders leaving him wanting more. He barely notices, his focus already drifting, as his body sinks into the stiff hotel sheets, breaths ghosting softly against the pillow his face is pressed against. "Slater..."

"Stop fightin' me," Heath tells him quietly. "I'm not goin' anywhere, no matter what you seem to think. You're stuck with me. Have been since FCW, will be for a long time to come. I'll make sure of it." Another kiss on his upper back, fingers trailing along his ribs as he breathes in and out slowly, and he gives in, falls into a deep, comfortable sleep for the first time in he's not sure how long. Heath smiles against his skin and snuggles closer, pleased with himself and genuinely relieved to just hold the older man without getting his teeth punched out of his skull.

Sun gleaming into the room pulls Wade back to consciousness, feeling suspiciously warm and comfortable, something weighing him down even as he blinks his eyes open. Ordinarily he'd feel strange, ready for a fight, but he feels too rested and ... _nice_ to even want to move, idly running his fingers over the warmth curled around his midsection. It takes a minute or two for his thoughts and memories to catch up with the rest of him, realize that the thing his fingers are trailing over is a hand- connected to an arm, connected to Heath Slater. Almost choking on his own saliva, he sits up and knocks the younger man's grip loose, turning around to stare in disbelief at him as he stirs and snuggles closer to Wade, undisturbed by all that had come before. "Slater," he barks. "What are you doing?!"

"Sleepin', what does it look like? Lay back down, it's too damn early, Brit," he grunts, reaching out for his leader. "C'mon."

"It's 9 AM," he grumbles, avoiding the clinging hands trying to pull him back into the cocoon of ginger and sheets, trying not to think about how enticing the offer truly sounds. "We have places to be, so get out of _my_ bed, you lazy git." Ignoring the whining complaints that follow, he gets up and pulls the sheets clean off of the bed, nearly flipping Heath over entirely.

"Hey!" he grunts, sitting up with a frazzled look on his face. "Dammit." Brushing the hair out of his eyes, he glowers over at the taller man before hesitantly inching out of bed. "Fine, fine. What's all important for us to do today?" It ends up being the typical, autograph signings and radio interviews that WWE forces them into, they are pretty sure on purpose, just to annoy them since they'd made such a mess of the company for so long when part of the Nexus.

But even all of the people around isn't enough to hinder Slater, only putting some sort of a filter on his actions: Instead of doing so wherever he wishes, he makes sure to catch Wade unaware in the small room set aside for the talent to have a moment of privacy or, even worse, in the hall outside of the bathroom, gripping the back of his head and drawing him in for more of those confusing, maddening kisses that leaves Wade wanting to punch him and pull him closer all at the same time. To his disgust, the night before had seemingly only added to Heath's brazenness.

After a long day of this, Wade returns to his hotel room, blinking quietly as the bane of his existence, the reason for all of his jumbled feelings, grins at him knowingly before turning to go with Zeke, leaving him with his roommate for the evening, Justin Gabriel. He frowns at the South African, who is the exact opposite of Heath. He's quiet, almost shy, and barely says a word as they make their way up to their hotel room. Wade is quiet as well, but far from shy, he and Justin never having much to say to the other without Slater's ridiculous presence to keep things moving between them.

Sleep doesn't come easily that night, if at all, and it's not long before Wade realizes that he _misses_ that grating ginger's breathing, his warmth, and even the mischevious, challenging look in his eyes as he leans up for those damn kisses, the feel of his lips... Burying his flaming face in his pillows, he wonders what the damn man had done to him in the short time that the Corre's been together, why he can't get him out of his head, from under his skin. He curses and flops over the other way, staring at Justin, who is sleeping quietly, tucked neatly into bed. Too quiet, too neat, too... opposite of Heath. "Son of a... Stupid ginger git..." Wade continues to mutter even as he pulls himself from his bed and goes to find something on TV, the volume kept low since not everyone could sleep through a missile attack like Slater.

Zeke is no better of a travel companion, Wade unable to get along with him half as well as he does even Justin, there just this lingering layer of tension between the two men that has only grown since he won the Intercontinental title, each night that they're forced to share a room spent in silence even more uncomfortable than the ones he endures each night he shares with Gabriel, his focus singlemindedly on the following night, when he'll maybe manage to get a bit of sleep, Heath's breath deep and even against his back as he somehow keeps the insomnia far away from the Brit.

This cycle goes on for quite awhile, two days of very little sleep followed by one that leaves him growing more and more comfortable in Heath's presence, his insomnia somehow losing its hold on him faster every night that Heath is with him, his warm, stable presence curled around him guiding him to rest easier each time. Which makes Wade loath the alternating roommates all the more, unable to say anything against it however, the other members of the Corre seeming to still appreciate the even amounts of time spent with each other. Though he is sure he's not imagining seeing a knowing glint in Slater's eye whenever they go their separate ways.

He wonders if that's part of the reason why the tension between Zeke and he continues to grow, but finally it comes to a head- Zeke takes the initiative and makes his intentions known to become Intercontinental champion, and the Corre goes from four back to three. Wade stares at Justin and Heath, partially relieved. He may have a fight on his hands now to retain his Intercontinental championship against the angry, large monster who'd once had his back, but... now there's little need for separate hotel rooms, and there's definitely no need for alternating roommates. He says as much, fighting to keep himself from grinning when Justin agrees, Heath nodding thoughtfully, a smirk of his own almost rivaling the look on Wade's face.

That night, Justin is once more in the bathroom when Heath leans in close to the Intercontinental champion, eying his title belt for a moment- Wade feels a moment of doubt, wondering if Zeke's not the only one with ulterior motives- before looking up at his face, expression showing that the last thing on his mind is title gold. "Missed me, Brit?" he breathes tauntingly, lips inches away from Wade's. Before Wade can say or do anything, he's pressed flush against him, the kiss this time somehow more intimate and intense than all others before, Barrett barely able to contain a soft groan as Heath cups the back of his head and keeps him close, his hands trembling so slightly that only he can notice it as they rest on Heath's shoulders and trail lower, squeezing his sides as he tries not to lose himself in the moment, uncomfortably aware that Justin could open the bathroom door at any time. It reminds him of that first kiss, just much... much better.

"Ginger," he whispers, the term slipping past his lips before he can even wrap his mind around it, eyes locked on Heath's as they lean forehead to forehead, staring at each other. " _Ginger_." Body thrumming with a need for more, he grips Heath by the shoulders and pushes him against the wall, pressing against him as he kisses him roughly, tangling his fingers in the garish orange hair tickling down his arms, holding him in place. The first time he's given in, taken the initiative to kiss the other man first, and it's better than anything he could've ever expected, his whole body tingling as Heath grips at his arms, responsive and warm against him.

Amazingly, Heath has some willpower left between the two of them and, upon hearing Justin shuffling around in the bathroom, breaks the kiss reluctantly, Wade's lips trailing against his jaw. "Justin," he mumbles to remind Barrett, pressing a hand to his chest and gently pushing him away. "Later."

Wade huffs, realizing that, although all of them sharing a room is better than it had been, it's still not perfect. Heath smiles and draws himself away from the wall, grabbing his leader by the hand and leading him over to the couch, where he pushes him down and sits on the cushion on the other end, turning the TV on. By the time Justin exits the bathroom, things appear normal enough. Wade waits as patiently as he can until the dark haired man sinks into bed with a weary sigh and shuts his light off, burying his face in his pillows, to turn his attention back to Heath. "Ginger git," he grouses, grabbing Heath by the back of the head and drawing him closer. He trails a finger down his smirking lips to his jaw before continuing where they'd left off earlier.

They adapt to the new arrangement, Wade finding himself relieved for Heath's sneakiness, ability to keep things on the down low even as he satisfies himself in lengthy kisses whenever Justin's not looking and holding him until he sleeps every night, Wade growing almost _too_ used to sleeping like a normal person, his head clearer than it has been in a long time. But again, it doesn't last, the changes in the business sometimes happening too quickly for any of them to keep straight.

His issues with Zeke culminate in a six man tag match that sees him quickly avoiding the much larger man, leaving Heath and Justin behind to suffer another defeat, Justin giving in to a torture rack. Well aware that they're unhappy, the weight of Heath's dark eyes locked between his shoulder blades as he trudges back up the ramp, he waits in the back for them, expecting an argument but... not what he gets. Justin, half bent in pain, glares right at him as he says the words that leave Wade frozen in disbelief: "The Corre is over!"

But worse than that, than any of it, is the look of anger in Slater's dark eyes as he backs his tag partner up. "It's done!" he yells in Wade's face before storming off, Justin stumbling to keep up with him due to the stabbing pain up his back and ribs. Wade watches them go blankly, eyes locked on Heath's form as he doesn't look back once, numbness sinking into his bones as he realizes that the younger man had meant it, in all possible ways.

Later that night, he sinks into his bed, staring at the empty room. It's quiet and peaceful and... cold and empty. He realizes with a sharp inhale that he utterly hates it, now so unaccustomed to sleeping alone that he can't even sit still long enough to pull the sheets up to his throat. "Damn you, Slater," he huffs, getting out of the bed to pace back and forth. TV seems uninteresting, his eyes are too gritty for reading, and... He groans, staring at the clock and realizing that it's still a good five hours to daybreak, time passing by at a snail's pace.

He's still walking back and forth when there's a shuffling sound at his door, followed by a hesitant knock. He frowns at the sound, which is quickly repeated, slightly louder. "What?!" he snaps, jerking the door open wildly. _If it's a fan, I swear, I will-_ But his thoughts are disrupted when he comes face to face with Heath Slater, his now-former teammate swallowing as they come eye to eye. "What the hell do _you_ want?" he snarls, anger and frustration bleeding through his every pore as he stares down at him.

"I couldn't sleep." He blinks a time or two, unsurprised at Wade's lack of reaction. As if sensing that the Brit's about to slam the door in his face, he leans against the doorframe, keeping his arm carefully in the way just in case. Remembering the first night he'd come to Wade, Justin in tow, to convince him that the Corre would be a good idea, Wade's words that night, he smiles slightly, staring at the carpet before looking up to meet his angry, hurt eyes. Anger, he could deal with, was used to, knowledgeable in charming Wade past it, but it was the hurt that made him pull up short, lose all warmth the memory had provided him. "I was thinkin' about you... alone in here, unable to sleep, and... it made me realize. I may want the end of the Corre, but I don't want... I don't want the end of this."

Barrett twitches, looking like he wants to deck Heath, and the ginger stands straighter, understanding on some level that he'd deserved it if Wade should, but all he does is grip Heath's collar and pulls him into the room, some unreadable expression on his face as he does so. "You left."

"You left first," Heath whispers, reaching up to wrap his fingers around his wrists, lightly stroking them even as Wade tugs him closer, their lips crashing together in a desperate kiss. "Brit..."

"I'm sorry," they say at the same time, Wade groaning as he lunges in for another kiss, all of the pain from the past few hours forgotten as their lips meet again, this time tasting like forgiveness and... and... He grunts, pushing Heath towards the bed, hands held tightly to his shoulders until the back of his legs hit the mattress and he falls back, staring up at Wade with some sort of challenge in his dark eyes. Wade releases a blustery breath, his shoulders slumping. "I'm tired," he mumbles, barely able to lock eyes with the other man at the admission of weakness, though this whole night has left him feeling pretty weak, vulnerable. Especially to the _look_ in Slater's eyes this very moment...

But when he does finally look, the other man's eyes are soft, gentle. He leans up slightly, holding his arms out to the taller man. "C'mere," he beckons, smiling as Wade shuffles towards him as if drawn like a magnet to his touch and sinks into his arms, burying his face in his chest as Heath sighs against him, trailing a kiss along his temple. "It's gonna be ok, Brit." He lays there quietly, stroking his fingers up and down the other man's back, feeling as he slowly relaxes against him. "See..."

"Git," he grumbles sleepily. "Don't do that again."

"I won't," Heath vows, smiling softly as he falls asleep in his arms, their legs tangled together. "Ever again."

Their relationship staying on the down low, Heath respecting Wade's need for privacy, becomes all the easier when things between Heath and Justin grow all the more tense, Gabriel not understanding why Heath keeps refusing to travel with him or even share a hotel room. Finally it all concludes at Smackdown one night, the two bringing their bickering to the ring as their partnership dissipates as well. Wade, despite feeling bad for Heath, can't help but be relieved as he holds him that night, listening to his soft breathing as he sleeps. It'd always been touch and go if he could get away from Justin, his guilt sometimes keeping him from being able to join Wade in a timely fashion, and the Brit had never been a fan of waiting, though for Heath...

He sighs, stroking some of the orange hair out of the other man's eyes so he can see his face. He has no doubt that he would, ultimately, wait for as long as he'd have to for Heath, this being something he's never felt for anyone ever before. "What are you doing to me, you ginger git?" he whispers, watching as Slater smiles in his sleep and snuggles closer, leaving Wade floundering all the more in a rush of rarely felt emotions.

For the next few months, they fall into this kind of routine- traveling together, competing together, rooming together. Wade's settled and comfortable in whatever unlabeled thing this is between them when it all comes crashing down around him. He hadn't seen Heath yet that morning, which should've been the first sign that something was wrong, but he hadn't thought seriously about it, busy with his own early morning gym rituals and such. Until his phone beeps while he's between sets, taking another deep pull from his water bottle before tugging it out of his abandoned jeans pocket to read. As soon as the words register, he fumbles the bottle, gaping at the screen. "No bloody way..."

Heath is sitting in the dark of their hotel room when he returns, staring down at the screen of his own phone. He's tense and a little shaky as Wade approaches, not bothering turning on a lamp as he sits across from the other man. Heath doesn't even bother to look up, keeping his eyes shadowed by his hair. "I'm so sorry," is all he says when the silence becomes too much for him.

"What did you do?" he asks lowly, wanting, needing to see his eyes, but not wanting to reach out and touch him, as if afraid of what he'd do at first contact, his emotions warring within him.

"That... that synthetic marijuana crap," Heath breathes out, glancing up briefly before turning his attention back to his knees. "I know, it was- it was stupid but a buncha the guys were doin' it, and..." He groans. "That sounds so lame. If my momma was here, she'd be slapping me upside the head. 'If a buncha the guys were gonna jump off a bridge, would you do it too?'"

Wade sighs, shifting to sit next to him. "Well, at least you realize how stupid it is." He itches again to touch the younger man, but he's almost uncertain it'd be welcome right now, Heath a big ball of tension next to him. No matter how close they'd come, he's a competitor first, and a ginger no less, prone to hyperactive fits of anger, and that's the last thing either of them need right now. But before very long, Heath leans over and rests his head on Wade's shoulder, still shaking. Barrett stares down at him for a long moment before sighing and wrapping his arm around him, pulling him closer. "It's going to be alright, Ginger."

"I hope so," he mutters, trailing a finger around Wade's collar as they sit in the semi-darkness. "I... I have to leave soon. Back to Florida until this suspension is lifted..."

Wade holds him, stroking his hair. Thinks. "I'll miss you," he offers without being aware that he was speaking aloud. Heath blinks a few times before pulling back to look at him, grinning slightly. _Bullocks,_ he realizes with a grimace. "Don't let it go to your head, Ginger. I'll miss being able to sleep somewhat decently, is all."

"Well, then. Don't let this go to your head either, Brit, but..." There's a strange look in Heath's eye as he leans forward, his lips inches away from Wade's skin. "I'll miss you too." The kiss that follows is slow, intense, and seems to describe everything that the two of them had been building the last few months. When Heath pulls away, he's flushed and more than a little breathless, and it's his turn to perhaps speak without thinking as he breathes out, "I love you."

Wade's not sure at first what he's said, or if he'd even heard Heath right, but when he pulls back, there's no denying what the look on his face means. He gapes at him for a moment, unsure how even to respond, but the ginger smiles anyway and cups the back of his head, kissing him once more.

They remain like that for Wade's not sure how long, lost in each other, until finally Heath pulls away, hands clinging to his jaw. "I gotta go," he mutters, leaning his forehead against Wade's. "I'll see you back in Florida, yeah?"

"Yeah, of course," he breathes, watching as Heath finally stands from the bed, smiling half-heartedly at him as he wanders the hotel room, collecting his bags. He says nothing as the younger man quietly leaves, waving glumly at him. He's only been gone a few minutes when Wade's phone beeps again. He groans, closing his eyes, almost afraid to see what it says this time, but when he pulls it out, he can't help but smile.

_I meant what I said, it wasn't just impulsive rambling like you're used to from me. I do love you and have for a long time now, Brit._

During those thirty days, the only respite Wade finds is when he finds a day or two to return to Florida and make his way back to Heath's apartment, the ginger always surprised and pleased to see him. Halfway through the suspension, Wade finds himself dwelling on these reactions his appearances always seem to garner, burying his fingers in the bright orange hair splayed across his shoulder as Heath breathes next to him late one night, neither of them quite ready to fall asleep just yet. "Hey, Slater."

"Mm hmm?" he asks, his fingers slowing against Wade's chest and abs. "What?"

"Why do you always look so shocked when you open the door and it's me?"the Brit asks after a few moments of thought. "It's like... you think you might never see me again." His lips twitch a little but it's a sad thought as he glances down at the blinking man sprawled out against his side, taking in the glum look in his eye. "Heath? What is it?"

Heath shrugs listlessly. "It's just, I know how important WWE has always been to you. I guess I just kinda think... when you leave, that that may be it. You'll have time to think about how stupid I am, gettin' suspended for such a meaningless thing, and just... be done with me." He presses a lingering kiss to Wade's throat and sighs. "That's kinda why I chose to tell you how I felt when I did, just in case that was it. Just wanted you to know."

Wade's eyes flutter as he once more digs his fingers into Heath's hair, this time pulling back on the strands until he can look the other man in the eye. "I've had plenty of time to think about a lot of things, Ginger. I've known from the start just how stupid you are," he says slowly, taking in the underlying pain in his eyes. "But... I haven't gone anywhere yet, now have I?" Gripping the back of his head, he pulls him back down and kisses him deeply, not letting Heath move away until he's had his fill. "And I won't. You're stuck with me now."

Heath groans softly, pulling back slightly. "Good. I'm glad." They stare at each other for a moment before he grins. "I love you."

Wade looks up at the ceiling as Heath lays back down against his chest, not seeming to mind his lack of response. He ponders those three words, how his heart leaps every time Heath says them, which is happening more and more often. He shakes his head and runs his fingers through the other man's hair, wondering what it feels like, to be able to say them so freely, trusting enough in the other individual to just lay it all out there. If the words will ever pour so easily from his own lips. He sighs and closes his eyes, thoughts racing nonstop until Heath's warmth and easy breathing sends him to sleep as well.

Heath's return is something Wade quietly celebrates, relieved to have the younger man back with him for traveling, hotel stays and everything in between, but the situation is quickly reversed when, barely four months later, he's in a battle royal following the Elimination Chamber, and gets thrown roughly out of the ring. He doesn't think much of it until Big Show sends Ziggler out towards them, the bleach blond superstar landing awkwardly against the announcer's table, sending him down as well as a few others scattered around ringside. He knows as soon as he lands, sharp pain stabbing up his elbow. He curses and flails, trainers and referees immediately surrounding him. "I broke it!" he screams, curses, at them, slamming the one arm he can still control against the mat as tears of pain fill his eyes, disgusting him further.

They work carefully, slowly, the match continuing on behind them as more competitors are thrown out of the ring and Wade lays back, trying not to move or hinder them any further. He can only imagine how Heath must be feeling, watching this in the back and having no choice but to wait. He cringes and curses colorfully when another body is thrown close to where he's at, landing precariously close to his already injured arm. Finally they finish securing his arm as well as they can with an air cast and help him to stand, Barrett glaring warningly at them as he walks to the ramp quietly, determined to see himself to the back and not show any more weakness to the audience or his fellow competitors.

As expected, Heath is waiting at the gorilla position, pale and trembling as Wade finally makes his way back there, their eyes locking. He swallows and reaches out for the younger man with his good arm, relaxing infinitesimally as Heath joins him, staring up at him. "I'm going to be fine, Ginger," he mutters, needing that fear to leave his eyes. "They just... need to set it, yeah?" He can tell it's not going to be that simple, the pain raw and burning even now, but it seems to help Heath, who nods, continuing to walk alongside him through the halls to the trainer's office. He doesn't necessarily want Heath to see what's to come, but he doesn't want to go through it alone either, the man's presence the only thing keeping him from completely losing it. Selfish, yes, but he doubts Heath would be willing to leave right now even if he'd bribed him anyway.

"Maybe you should sit outside," the trainer tells Heath once they're all inside his office and settled, Heath looking somehow even younger in the bright lights, his orange hair held back in a tight ponytail. Wade examines him for a moment, liking the look on him, and is unsurprised when he shakes his head determinedly, reaching over to take the other man's uninjured hand, squeezing it gently. "Fine then. Let's get started."

Wade squeezes his hand back but tries to shake himself loose a moment later. When Heath looks at him in confusion, he shakes his head. "You don't want to be doing that, Ginger. I might... well. There's no point in both of us getting injured tonight." But Heath clings to him stubbornly and Barrett rolls his eyes. "Well, don't say I didn't warn you." As if to dare him, Heath inches closer and presses his free hand to his good shoulder, rubbing soft circles in his skin, and they both hold their breaths as the trainer and doctor discuss, and then manipulate his joint back into place before preparing to transport him to the ER for further tests and evaluation.

Heath doesn't complain once, even when Wade flinches against the pain, his grip on the other man's hand probably moving beyond uncomfortable. When they're done, and alerting the ER that he'll be coming soon, he speaks up, voice simple and quiet. Unlike most of the many tones Wade's heard from him in the past. "Can I drive him? I'll be careful."

Wade's eyes widen as the doctor and trainer once more begin hashing this over, staring at Heath in surprise at the offer. "I'm fine with it," he finally says, interrupting their discussion. "I trust him." And the thing that surprises him the most is just how true it is... When Heath smiles at him, staying nearby in case he needs any help as he gets off of the cot and slowly walks towards the exit once everyone involved had agreed to this, he feels warm and secure, despite his pain and the future uncertainty in his career. Once they reach the car, he sinks into the passenger seat and waits for Heath to join him in the driver's seat, still surprisingly calm and collected. "Thanks, Ginger," he murmurs, glancing over at him as he starts the car.

"Sure, no problem," he says quietly. They drive in silence through most of the trip until Wade realizes why- Heath looks suspiciously close to tears, the Brit's chest seizing at the unusual sight. He reaches over with his good arm and squeezes Heath's hand, drawing it over until it rests in his lap. Heath sniffs, then groans. "Sorry, sorry. I just... you were screamin' in pain, and I couldn't go to you, or- or anythin'. I told myself I wouldn't lose it while you needed me, but obviously I'm failin' spectacularly at that, like most things lately."

Wade shakes his head slowly. "That's not true. Hey, if I really thought you were a failure, would I let you drive me anywhere, much less the ER when I'm in such a state?" Heath smiles faintly, but it's far from the reaction Wade had been hoping to garner. He sighs and lifts Slater's hand, pressing a kiss to it before resting it back against his lap, squeezing it.

When they finally reach the hospital, the ginger carefully parking as close to the building as he can get, he turns in his seat and stares at Wade. "Are you ready?"

"I have to be," he sighs, reaching over carefully with his uninjured hand to open the car door. He's barely grazed it with his fingertips when it opens, Heath's speed in racing around the car surprising him as he holds it open for him. Wade blinks up at him a time or two before carefully turning, resting his feet on the pavement. Heath waits patiently as he awkwardly stands, his bad arm hindering his balance, the two of them staring at each other as Heath makes sure his footing is secure before shutting the car door behind him. "Alright."

Heath hovers as they walk up to the building, looking like he wants to touch the other man, help in some way, but uncertain where to begin, what to do. Finally he comes to a stop, unsurprised when Wade follows suit, looking back at him curiously, before he grips him carefully by the back of the neck and pulls him closer, kissing him softly. He's being so gentle, clearly trying to be mindful of Wade's arm, that the Brit sighs softly, skin warm and tingling under Heath's subtle attention. "I love you."

Wade stares at him, eyes dark and gleaming under the overhead light. _Maybe..._ But before he can think of how to form the words, his lips still pressed tightly together, the ginger grabs him by the uninjured arm and leads him inside, Wade wondering how Heath can still seem so undisturbed by his lack of response over the last few months, going on like it's absolutely nothing, something he expects by now. It's a sad thought, to be honest, but his focus is quickly distracted from these ponderings as they start dealing with nurses and doctors and tests and...

Once the madness calms down and they're waiting on results, Slater sits next to him on the bed, idly stroking his fingers through Wade's soft black hair. "Was thinkin'."

"Great," Barrett says sarcastically, never wanting to admit just how much he's enjoying Heath's repetitive motions against his scalp. "About?"

"Smackdown's airin' tomorrow this week instead of on Friday... What do you say when they release you from here, we'll travel there, I'll stay with you at the hotel until I gotta leave for the show, then once it's done, we'll fly out to Florida together..." He pauses, unsure what Wade will think of what he's about to say, before spitting it all out at once. "... and then I'll come stay with you until the surgery, so you're not alone."

Wade stares at him, blinking a time or two. He'd been planning on flying home alone, and handling everything from there on his own except for those nights Heath would be in the state and they'd unavoidably end up together, but... Heath's offer sounds very enticing. "You... why would you want to do that? I'm not going to be good company for the foreseeable future."

"When are ya?" he teases, resting a hand on Wade's chest to calm him. "Look, it just makes sense, alright? I ain't lettin' you go through this alone, no matter what you may be thinkin'. You were by my side as much as you could throughout my suspension, and it meant a lot to me. I just wanna return the favor."

Wade stares at him for long, tense moments, before releasing a disbelieving breath at what he's about to agree to. "Fine," he mumbles. "I guess we can try it your way for awhile." The smile that spreads across the younger man's face _almost_ makes it worth it as he leans closer and kisses Wade again.

"Great," he says, his eyes gleaming. "Everything's gonna go just fine, Brit. I promise." And despite his reluctance to give up on his own plans, Wade has to admit... he thinks so too, unable to deny Heath anything when he gets _that_ look on his face, so similar to the way he looks whenever he says he loves him.

"I believe you." Wade looks down as he cups his good hand, rubbing a hand down his wrist. "I just want to get out of here."

Before Heath can say anything, a nurse and doctor walk in. "Well, it's your lucky day then, Mr. Barrett," the man tells him with a faint smile. "We've looked over your results and will be sending it in to your personal physician back in Florida and WWE's doctor as well. Since it was set back at the arena, there's not much for us to do, except to put a more secure cast on it, and send you on your way. You'll want to take it easy and take pain relievers as needed until they schedule surgery for you later in the week." Wade nods through more directions, relieved that it seems to all be wrapping up, wanting nothing more than to crawl into bed, hold Heath, and finally get some sleep, put today behind him. "We'll be back in a moment with your papers."

"Thanks," he mumbles, glancing over at Heath. "Now you'll get to see what a bastard I can truly be while injured."

Heath smirks at him, rolling his eyes. "Like it'll be much different from how you are the rest of the time." He leans in closer and presses a soft kiss to his lips to prove he means nothing by his words. "It's gonna be fine, I'll deal. I just wanna help you as much as you'll let me, is all."

Wade purses his lips, still uncertain if this is a good idea, but Heath looks so determined, his brown eyes boring deep into Wade's, that he can't fight him. "Fine. Fine. But if it becomes too much..." He grimaces, feeling strangely needy and worried. He knows deep inside that he just doesn't want to shatter whatever this is between them when it's one of the few things he'll have to cling to for the next few months, but yet...

"It won't," he says simply. He rests a hand atop Wade's, lips twitching as Barrett stiffens a little but ultimately doesn't shake him off, even turning his hand so they're sitting there palm to palm, not even bothering to separate when the nurse returns with his papers. He doesn't move until it's time to sign them, Heath holding the clipboard steady as Wade reads it over and then signs one-handed as best as he can.

The nurse smiles and takes the forms from him, leaving a sheet of directions and instructions for him. "All done then," she says cheerfully. "Follow the instructions on the page, and we have some prescriptions you'll need filled to tide you over until you can get in to your own doctor..." As she hands these to Heath, she nods at both men. "Take care of yourself."

"Bye," Heath says as she leaves the room quietly, giving them a moment to collect everything and go. "Well, Brit, you ready?" he asks, eyes softening as he takes in the look on Wade's face. "C'mon, it won't be that bad, I'll take good care of ya." He presses a soft kiss to Wade's head before standing aside, giving him the space to get up from the cot. As soon as he's on his feet, Heath smiles at him and snags the paperwork before resting a hand on his good shoulder, rubbing soft, soothing circles against his skin as he looks down at his bad arm in the sling they had provided with a dark grimace. "Let's go."

Wade sleeps through most of the car ride, and although he feels bad for leaving it to Heath to see them the few hours to where Smackdown is being held alone, the pain medicine Heath insists he takes is strong, hitting him almost as soon as he downs it with a bottle of water after choking down a grilled chicken sandwich that they suppose is the closest thing to healthy they'll find at this hour, Heath not wanting him to take medicine on an empty stomach. When he wakes up and struggles to sit up in the backseat, groggy and confused as to why his arm isn't working, his whole body heavy and weak, Heath smoothly pulls over and gets out of the car, moving to kneel in the backseat to help him sit upright. "You're ok," he whispers, smiling down at him as he blinks tiredly up at him. "It's gonna be ok, Brit. Just relax, eh? We're almost to the hotel, then you can sprawl out and get comfortable, maybe catch some more sleep." He runs his fingers through his mussed dark hair and Wade leans into his touch, sighing softly.

"Heath," he mumbles, only a little more awake as Heath adjusts the blanket that Wade now realizes is covering him.

"How do you feel?"

He blinks a time or two, shaking his head slowly. "Numb," he sighs. "My arm- wha-..." Heath strokes his hair a time or two, watching as it clicks with him all over again. "No..."

"Relax, it's gonna be ok." Heath leans down and carefully kisses him, breathing against his lips as he smiles. "I'll take good care of you. I promise."

Wade frowns up at him but merely grumbles softly, finally succumbing to the soft kisses before Heath pulls away a few moments away. "Why are we stopped?"

"Just wanted to check on ya," the younger man offers with a small smile. "Didn't want you to hurt yourself while you're still groggy from the meds." Wade grunts and Heath grins. "You gonna get some more sleep or stay up and keep me company?"

He blinks sleepily and doesn't give a true answer as Slater leans over again and kisses him a little longer this time, before pulling back and sliding back out of the backseat, checking traffic before returning to the driver's seat. He smiles when Wade speaks up a few minutes later. "How close are we exactly? These seats are horrible."

"Five, ten minutes at most," Heath says, barely taking his eyes off of the road ahead. "Think you can wait that long, Brit?"

He huffs and looks through the windshield, watching cars pass by. "Of course I can, you silly ginger." He glares down at his arm, wishing that he could fast-forward time, get the surgery over with, conclude recovery and rehab, and get back to what he was meant to do in a WWE ring. He doesn't notice Slater's sympathetic gaze through the rearview window, or the thoughtful look on his face.

Heath stumbles back to the hotel later that night, still stuck squinting despite the trainer carefully washing his eyes out after Santino's spitting cobra attack. He grunts, nearly running into the wall, but finally finds the door to his and Wade's room, listening for the beep to be let inside as he struggles to get the keycard into its slot. Before that can happen, however, the door is pulled out of his grip, sending him even further off-balanced, and he can just make out narrowed blue eyes staring at him. "Brit," he sighs as he's grabbed by one arm and tugged inside.

"That Italian git," he grouses, cupping Heath's jaw with his good hand. "Look at me, Ginger." When Heath does, his eyes are so bloodshot and painful looking that it makes Wade's eyes water a bit. Not saying another word, he leads the other man to the bed and makes him sit down, walking to the bathroom and coming back with a towel drenched in cool water. He presses this to Heath's eyes and pushes him back against the bedding, covering him in sheets and the comforter before joining him. "Feel any better?"

"Yeah," he whispers, looking blatantly unhappy. As Wade rests his good arm on Heath's chest, staring up at him, the orange haired man sighs glumly. "This _sucks,_ " he grumbles. "I said I was gonna take care of you, but look at this- I didn't even make it twenty-four hours without needing you to take care of me again-"

Wade's huff interrupts him. "For one thing, I don't need _taken care of._.. and for another, the surgery hasn't even happened yet. I'm quite capable of not killing myself, even if I only have one arm at the moment." His voice turns subdued and a little hesitant as he sighs. "Besides... I don't exactly _mind_ taking care of you, Ginger." As if to prove his point, he leans over once more and begins to pat down the bedding to spread more thoroughly over him. Before he could get too far, however, Heath reaches out and finds him in the darkness behind the washcloth, squeezing his hand. "Slater..."

There's a small grin on his lips, soft and charming, and Wade can't stop staring, knowing what's coming next. "I love you, Brit."

Wade closes his eyes this time, unconsciously running a hand over Heath's knuckles, wishing for a moment that he could see his eyes right now. He always gets this warm look in his brown eyes that draws the British superstar in, makes him want to say the words back more and more each time, but... He shakes his head and swallows, returning to adjusting the sheets as soon as he frees himself from Heath's grip. "Are you comfortable?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Brit." Again, he doesn't sound disappointed or hurt, though his grin does slip a bit, and Wade watches what of him he can see as he carefully lays down on his back, listening to Heath breathing. After a moment, the younger man rolls over and slowly rests a hand on his chest, making sure not to come anywhere close to his bad arm. "'Night..."

Wade breathes in softly, feeling his hand rise and fall with each inhale and exhale. "Good night, Ginger."

They return to Florida for the surgery and Wade watches with a grimace as Heath bustles around the apartment, unpacking his bag of things he'd needed for WWE and repacking it for the hospital stay that's looming. "No, that shirt," he corrects him absentmindedly at one point, shaking his head in disbelief at how suddenly his life had changed.

Heath, conversely, nods and swaps the shirts before looking up at him, catching the look on his face. "Something wrong? Did I still grab the wrong shirt?" He stares at the article of clothing in his hand, frowning in confusion.

"No," Wade sighs. "The clothes are fine." He watches as Heath stares at him, confusion growing, before he carefully rests the clothing back down on the bag and stands, joining him on the couch and leaning against his good side, examining his face. "What?"

Heath shrugs, brown eyes narrowed in thoughtful worry. "You alright? I mean, it's not your arm, is it?" He glances over at the sling before turning back to Wade's face. "You'd tell me if somethin' was wrong, yeah?"

"I'm fine," he grumbles. It takes a few minutes before he realizes that that'd done nothing to ease the worry on Heath's face, and he sighs, accepting that he's going to have to say _something._ He plans on just fibbing his way out of it, but when he opens his mouth... "I was just thinking about how quickly things changed, in that one moment." ... the truth comes out instead. _What the hell?_ "It's always the moments you least expect, huh?" Heath is still staring at him in that confused, worried way, and he swallows. "The moment I lost to Punk and had to leave Nexus behind, the moment you kissed me, the moment you and Justin broke up the Corre, the moment Ziggler fell into me and I felt my arm snap..." He finds himself staring at his sling this time, shaking his head. "Do you ever find yourself worrying about what the _next moment_ might be, even if you have no clue what it possibly could be?"

Heath thinks it through for a moment before pulling Wade closer, stroking his fingers down his back in what he hopes is a comforting motion for the older man. "You know, sometimes. But then I look over and realize that for all of _my_ moments- getting eliminated from NXT, you comin' to me about starting Nexus, all of that Punk nonsense, Corre's beginning and ending, my suspension, and everythin' else- you've always been there for me, ready and willin' to help see me through it however you could." He takes a breath. "It helps, makes the future easier to face. I'd like to think I do the same for you." And underneath all of the ego and lack of shame lies a man with as many uncertainties and worries as the next person, Wade having seen glimpses of _that_ Heath in the past, but this time unwilling to let the moment pass, allow him to keep second-guessing such things.

With his good arm, he tilts Heath's face up and stares into his eyes. "Yes," he says softly. "You do. Knowing that you'll be here to help me post-surgery... has made all of this much easier. I still hate the unknown, and having to stay home during Wrestlemania season, but if anything will help me through it will be knowing that you'll be around as much as possible." He leans down and hovers over Heath's lips, taking in how his eyes darken, dilate at Wade's closeness, before pressing against him in a long, slow, intense kiss that leaves them both lost in the other, Heath still taking care not to jostle his bad arm no matter how far into the moment he falls. Wade notices even in his own haze and it only adds all the more to the kiss, the Brit giving up most pretenses as he holds Heath close with one arm. _Almost..._

That Thursday, Heath helps Wade into the hospital, holding onto his bag with one hand and keeping the other on his back, more for the contact than assistance in walking or anything else. "Doin' alright, Brit?" Wade nods, his lips pressed tightly together, and Heath nods back, leading him to the admittance desk. "We're here for Wade Barrett's surgery," he tells the girl when she looks up at them.

She nods, checking the schedule before collecting some paperwork from a pile behind her. "Alright, sir," she says with a small smile, glancing over at Wade. "I have some forms for you to fill out, and then the doctor will come out and discuss with you what to expect from the upcoming procedure." After he collects his papers from her, they walk together to the waiting room she directs them to and Heath waits for Wade to choose where he wants to sit, only a few people already there scattered around.

Once he finds a chair, Heath sits next to him, smoothly taking the form for him and holding it steady so he can sign it one handed without the pen going all over the place. "Thanks, Ginger," he breathes out once they finish, the first words he's spoken since they'd left his apartment.

Heath just smiles, taking the clipboard once he's done with it and laying it and the pen down on the table before taking Wade's hand and squeezing it quietly. Neither man say a word, Slater allowing the Brit to dictate how this trip should go, for once sitting in silence- Wade's pretty sure it's the longest amount of time the _One Man Band_ has ever been quiet- his support helping Barrett to relax even a little bit.

It feels like only minutes have passed, however, when a nurse comes by and, taking the forms, brings them to the front desk before turning back. "We're ready for you now," she tells Wade. When Heath stands too, she nods at him. "Are you with him? I can take you to the OR waiting room."

He hesitates. "Can't I come with him? Just for a little bit? Please?"

She takes a moment to look from man to man but ultimately nods, drawn by the barely masked desperation in Wade's eyes. "Briefly, until we begin preparing him for surgery. Keep him calm, please."

"Yeah, sure," Heath agrees easily as Wade mutters, "Yeah right." The nurse looks doubtfully at the two, Wade merely blinking back at her, before she leads them back to the room where they'll wait. She raises an eyebrow at them, directing Barrett to change into the hospital gown on the bed in the corner before leaving the room. Heath smirks at his former leader before leaning against the counter on the other side of the room. "Now she's doubtin' if lettin' me in here was a good idea or not. Good job, Brit."

Wade smirks, holding his good arm out to Heath. "Shut up and get over here, Ginger." Heath rolls his eyes but obliges, leaning a hip against the side of the bed. "What?" he demands, eyes narrowing when he stops and picks at the ignored hospital gown, raising an eyebrow at the taller man. "I am _not_ putting that thing on."

"You hafta, Brit." Heath stares at him, sighing slightly. "Listen, I know you hate askin' for help, but I came here for that reason, right? I wanna do what I can to make this easier on you. C'mon. Let's just get this over with." He reaches out for Wade's shirt, stopping short when the British man glowers at him before he can even touch the fabric. "Wade..." He grimaces. "You haven't had that much of a problem with this before now, what's wrong?"

He takes a few deep breaths before looking back at the other man, hating the hurt look on his face at his rebuff. "I guess, just... when I change into _that,_ it means there's no going back. This surgery is really happening, and I- I don't want it to be true. Not now. I had so many _plans_ in my career, and..." He shakes his head, frustrated.

Heath sighs and cups his face, staring deep into his eyes. "The sooner you do this... the sooner you'll recover and be back in the ring where you belong. I know it sucks but I'm gonna be by your side through as much of this as I can." He gives him a minute for the words to sink in before smiling, stroking his jaw. "Now c'mon, let's do this thing, huh?" This time when he reaches out for his shirt, Wade swallows and allows it, wincing as the shirt is carefully pulled away from his bad arm, Heath murmuring comfortingly before folding the shirt and placing it on the counter, the jeans following a moment later. He drops the gown over Wade's head, smoothing it across his body, before sitting back with a soft smile on his lips. "There we go, how's that?"

"Fine," he says simply, sitting on the cot and leaning back against the pillows. Heath follows, resting his head against his good arm, smiling as Wade wraps it around his back, holding him in place. They lay there like that for long moments, absorbing each other's warmth, the feel of their breaths syncing as always. Many thoughts are rattling around in Wade's skull, though there's only one that truly matters at the very front of his mind, and he stares at the top of Heath's head, hoping that none of this affects what they'd slowly built. He can hear his doctor talking outside of his door with the nurse, aware that this means the time is near, so he nudges him, wanting to look him in the eye as he says this. "Ginger?" Heath sits up and stares at him, also hearing the doctor, but before he can say anything, Wade grips him and pulls him in, kissing him with everything that remains in him. Pulling away he stares into his eyes desperately before finally saying what he'd been thinking, feeling, for possibly longer than he'd even realized. "I love you."

Heath gapes at him, shaking his head as a smile grows on his lips. "You- whoa." He laughs softly, cupping Wade's face before kissing him for as long as he dares, leaning his forehead against Wade's. "I love you too, so much."

Wade breathes in, his teeth flashing as he grins. "I do wonder one thing, however," he whispers, deciding to go all in at once. "You've been telling me that for months, and I haven't reciprocated until, well, now. But you never seemed that bothered by it, it never stopped you from saying it. Why? Most would've given up after the first time or two."

Heath hums against his lips before pulling away to sit back on his heels, his leg warm against Wade's side. "I could see it in your eyes," he says. "I mean, when I'd say it especially. You just... your eyes would soften and get this kind of warm glint to them, and I kinda figured it's how I'd imagined you would look when you were tellin' someone you loved 'em." He laughs, flushing slightly as he traces designs in the crisp hospital sheets sheepishly. "I now have confirmation for that, by the way. You look like that right now."

Wade looks both embarrassed and impressed at the other man's ability to read him so easily. He coughs, trying to shrug the moment off. "Well, perhaps you're smarter than people give you credit for," he finally says, smirking through the warmth suffusing his skin. Heath rolls his eyes at him but doesn't let the moment go that easily, crawling back to him and resting his head on his chest, snuggling closer. Barrett rolls his eyes but obliges, wrapping his arm around him. "What will the nurse think when she walks back in?"

"Do you really care?" Slater wonders, laughing when Wade shakes his head against him, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "Good." They're still laying there, Heath's fingers trailing along his hospital gown, when there's a knock at the door and he hesitantly sits up, winking at Wade. "Come in."

The nurse smiles as she stares at the ginger. "It's time to prepare Mr. Barrett for the surgery. I have to take you to the OR waiting room now. I promise, as soon as we have updates, we'll alert you."

Heath sighs and nods, turning back to Wade. Before he can say anything, he leans over and kisses him, smirking when Wade kisses him back, proving that he _doesn't_ care that the nurse is probably still watching three feet away. "I'll see you as soon as I can, when it's over," he promises, brushing a finger over the older man's lips. "I love you."

"I love you too," Wade breathes as he smiles and stands, eyes warm and deep with many different emotions. When he turns to follow the nurse out, the Brit tracks his every moment, already missing his warmth and distracting energy by his side. _It won't be long,_ he reminds himself with a sigh. _This surgery will wrap up and I'll be back with him, my arm will be on the mend and... everything can start to go back to normal... I hope._

But it's not to be. He knows something's wrong when he wakes up and it's dark in his room, a hand resting in his hair, stroking comfortingly. Heath's sprawled on top of him, easy to recognize by his warmth and the familiar scent of spices and that ridiculous aftershave he insists on wearing that Wade would never admit how fond he'd grown of. The surgery wasn't supposed to last _this_ long, but here it is, nearly 8 PM, and... "Heath," he mumbles.

The younger man stirs, yawning against him, before sitting up. "Wade?" He clicks a lamp on to its lowest setting and smiles down at him, eyes gleaming in the faint light. "Hey, man, it's about time." He rubs his eyes and glances at the clock, eyes widening. "Damn. I'm gonna go get the doctor."

Wade frowns as he rushes off before he can ask about the surgery or anything else; there a strange kind of tension in Heath's shoulders that makes him wonder what had happened, his eyes scanning the curve of his arm. It's held in a very restrictive hinge cast, which he had expected after reading through all of the paperwork and listening to the doctor, but... Something's not right. And he has a suspicion that Heath knows all too well what it is.

"Hello, Mr. Barrett," the surgeon greets him, Heath following him in after a moment. "How are you feeling?" When Wade simply stares at him, he releases a breath. "Alright then, you want to know how the surgery went, I suppose." He sits down in a chair, spinning it over towards the bed. Heath sits on the bed, curling his fingers around Wade's hand, which does little to comfort him, only adding to his tension. He doesn't shake him off, however, completely focused on the man who'd just repaired his arm. "The damage was more extensive than we realized. We had to repair ..." As he drones on, Wade's grip on Heath's hand tightens, but the other man doesn't complain once, his dark brown eyes locked on Wade's face as he takes in all of the facts. It's not until the doctor says, "After recovery and rehab, you should be on track to return to the WWE in late summer," that he speaks up.

"No." His glare is hot, hand trembling against Heath's. "Wrestlemania is... _no._ I can't- I won't-" He turns his intense gaze to the ginger, who swallows and leans closer, staring at him. "I'm not missing it because of this. Not after everything-" It's the sharp sympathy on the other man's face that causes him to fall silent, finally wrenching his hand out of Heath's grip as the answers he wants, _needs,_ continue to evade him.

"Brit, I'm sorry-"

"GET OUT!" he roars, unaware of the tears filling his eyes as he looks around for something nearby to throw, but there's nothing. "OUT! NOW!" The doctor rushes out of the room, probably looking for a nurse to come and sedate him before he can hurt himself, but Heath shakes his head, pushing a chair up and jamming it underneath the knob, keeping them all out so he can focus on Wade. When he turns back to the gasping man, his eyes are full of pain and sadness, Wade all but snarling at him causing him to stop short before he can approach the bed. "That meant you too, you deaf git. Get out!"

"No," Heath tells him simply. "I'm not leavin'. You yell all you want, I told you before I ain't gonna go anywhere. You're stuck with me. Through thick and thin, through everythin'. If you want sedated, great. I'm right here with you, come what may." As his words shock Barrett into silence, he walks over as if nothing is happening, and sits down once more next to him on the bed, arms crossed over his chest. They're still sitting there like that, ignoring the doctors and nurses outside struggling to get inside, when Wade's shoulders begin to shake and Heath glances over at him, tears filling his eyes too. He immediately moves, wrapping his arms carefully around the other man, avoiding his bad arm. "It's ok. It's ok. I'm here. You're gonna be fine, Wade."

He cries harder, unable to keep his long buried emotions inside any longer as orange hair tickles against his throat, Heath whispering softly to him, the words not really registering with him as he shatters apart in his arms, unable to face- after everything, when he was finally getting on a roll again- that he'd now be forced to wait, bide his time, yet again, recover while the wrestling world moved on without him. As another Wrestlemania season would leave him with nothing to show for it, except disappointment and bitterness. He groans, shaking his head as he slams his fist against Heath's back, over and over and over again.

The ginger doesn't complain once, only holding onto him tighter until he falls silent, hands stopping against his shoulder as he stares blankly at the shut door. Heath grimaces, pulling away from him and resting him back against the pillow. "You alright now? Can I let them in?" Wade nods slowly, barely blinking as the other man stands and approaches the door, shifting the chair away and allowing the doctor, nurse and security in. Neither man respond much more than "Yeah" "Yes" and subdued apologies, Wade's eyes puffy and red, and Heath's upper back covered in scattered bruises under his shirt. Neither of which matter much to either of them, as they consider just what the next few months will bring.

When the room is finally emptied, the doctor warning to call the cops should something like this happen again, the Brit looks back up and catches Heath's eye. "I imagine you're rethinking the whole agreeing to help me bullocks now... There's still time, you don't have to-"

"Wanna move in with me?" Slater interrupts, grinning when Wade looks like he's been hit. "Or I could move in with ya, whichever you prefer." He sighs. "I've been thinkin'. WWE hasn't really been usin' me much anyway since my suspension, and that's ok, I get it, but it means I have lots'n'lots of free time and... well, you need someone to help ya and I think I'm the one you're least likely to outright kill. What d'ya say?"

Wade sputters. He stares. He finally opens his mouth. "Are you bloody insane?!"

"More than likely, yeah." Heath reaches out for his hand once more, lifting it to his lips. "Is that a yes, Brit? Are you movin' with me or am I movin' in with you? And is Boodah welcome too?"

Wade stares at him, weighing his options, before swallowing deeply, incapable of believing the words that are about to leave his lips. "Yes..." He bites his lip, staring down at Slater's hand warm against his fingers. "You can move into my place, there's more room. And I suppose, if you can keep that mutt under control, yes it can stay. But it tries biting me again, and I'm shipping it back to West Virginia."

Heath laughs, ignoring the threat against his dog as he kisses Wade again. "This'll work out great, I promise ya," Heath whispers against his skin, breathing deeply as Barrett digs his fingers into his hair, pulling him closer for another kiss.

And somehow it does, Heath barely batting an eye at Wade's explosive temper as they prepare for him to be released from the hospital a couple days later. He brings over some of his things, finding it a little funny in a sad fashion, how easy it is to find room for his things in Wade's closet, or dresser. "Don't you own _anything?_ " he demands, looking over incredulously at him. He hadn't thought much of it when he'd been packing for the hospital, but _now,_ actually having time to sit back and think about it, he realizes just how barren the apartment is.

Wade stares at him, lips thin. "I own plenty considering I spend 75% of my free time on the road." As Heath continues to search through his things, Barrett rolls his eyes. "Stop that, you silly ginger git."

"Ok, that's it," Heath says, finding nothing anywhere of interest. "I'll be back in a few minutes." He leans over and kisses Wade lingeringly, smirking as he stands. "Don't you move. Boodah, keep him company, eh?" he asks the dark dog, who looks up at him without moving his head. Wade grumbles as he leaves the apartment without any sort of explanation, exchanging a glance with Boodah, who returns to gnawing at a bone like it's the only thing that matters in his world.

"Bullocks," he sighs. "What does that ridiculous man have up his sleeve now?" But he listens, doesn't move once. As it is, his arm hurts anyway and any sort of movement only makes it worse so he sits back and waits, staring at the blank screen of his TV. However, he does lean forward when Heath returns with a large box, smirking over at him as he settles it down at his feet. "What in the bloody hell is that?"

"DVDs and my DVD player! You and I, we're gonna have a lot of movie marathons for the next few weeks," he grins, dropping happily onto the carpet to dig through the numerous titles inside and set up the player to Wade's TV. "This is gonna be great!"

Wade groans. "My brain is going to leak through my ears with the kinds of movies _you_ probably will pick..."

"We'll go back and forth on which to watch then, how's that? And when we're done with this box, we can go rent newer movies..." Heath grins up at him. "C'mon, movie watchin' with Heath Slater, what could be more fun than that?"

"Where do I begin?" the annoyed Brit wonders, looking away as Heath pouts at him. "Honestly, do you-" What he's going to say drifts away briefly when Heath stands in front of him, a grin on his lips. "-think I would ever-..." Distracted again when Heath settles down in his lap, he shakes his head. "-willingly watch a _box_ of those movies, when-" Heath's arms snake around his neck, disrupting his thought process for the third time in twenty seconds. "-I have my own movie to prepare for, and-" The last of his sentence is muffled by Heath's lips when the ginger kisses him thoroughly, smirking as he tries to talk nonetheless. "-I really don't want my performance to be ruined by this nonsense..." He raises his good hand and supports Heath as he presses him against the couch, trailing his hands down his chest.

"Your performance is just fine, trust me," Heath mumbles against his lips, gasping as Wade pinches his side. He rolls his eyes, breaking the kiss enough to say "Ow" before Wade drags him back into it, it being his turn to smirk.

Despite Wade's initial complaints, he eventually gives in to the movie marathons, and even enjoys some of the movies as much as, if not more than, Heath does but reality imposes itself before long and, a couple of months later, he's alerted that filming for Dead Man Down will begin. Heath happens to be called in for WWE business more often then too, leading up to the 1000th episode of Raw, and Wade tries not to overthink it when he sees segments on TV of Drew hanging around Heath. Jealousy isn't the Brit's thing, anyway, but the two men definitely seem comfortable enough around each other.

Not that it surprises him, really, the three of them had hung out in the past- but the _three_ of them is one thing. Drew alone with Heath, looking so at ease with him while Wade is barely at home when Heath is, filming that movie taking up more time than he'd expected, well... He tries not to think too seriously about it, well aware that it's _his_ apartment Heath goes back to each week, _his_ phone he rings every night before bed, even if it's just to hear the Brit's breathing, both of them too exhausted to talk much some nights. He just misses him and, when not filming or rehabbing, has way too much time to think, his once more bad insomnia only making this all the worse. He even misses Boodah sometimes, the black dog regaining his good graces during the couple of months they'd all been staying at his apartment before he'd had to leave.

Filming is almost wrapped up when week after week, Heath begins either losing to or getting beat up by legends or celebrities, the worst of which being Cyndi Lauper, who hits him so solidly with a glass frame for one of her records that it makes him bleed. He grits his teeth when he notices it on the replay, calling him immediately. His discomfort grows when a familiar accented voice answers the phone. "...McIntyre? What are you doing with Heath's phone?"

"Just came to check on him while the trainer's workin' him over," he says simply. "His phone was ringing so he asked me to grab it." Wade pauses, hearing Heath's distinct voice in the background, and Drew sounds close to laughter when he speaks up again. "He says to tell you he's doing ok, except that that Cyndi broad is insane."

"No kidding," he says drily, remembering the sound that the frame against the man's skull had made. "When he's done with the trainer, I'd like to speak to him though."

"Alright, I'll tell him to call you as soon as the trainer's done cleaning him up." And before Wade can say anything else, Drew hangs up, leaving the Brit staring at his phone in growing annoyance.

"Scottish git," he grumbles, trying not to overthink what's going on. He trusts in Heath, really he does, but... loneliness can do weird things to people, and Drew had known Heath about as long as Wade had, in FCW... He narrows his eyes and shakes his head, his phone ringing disrupting his thoughts. "Hello?"

"Hey, Brit," Heath greets him, sounding a little tired and aggravated but alright all in all. "Drew said you wanted to talk. Sorry it took me a bit to call back, decided to wait till I got back to the hotel so it'd be a little more quiet."

"I see," Wade mutters, surprised to look at the clock just to find that nearly an hour's passed since he had first called. "How's your head?"

"It's fine. She barely nicked me," he says, peeved. "Friggin woman, ruining my song _and_ gettin' glass in my hair. Like she knows what good music is or anythin'."

Wisely keeping his mouth shut at this, Wade takes a breath. "I'm just glad you're alright," he says after a few more moments of Heath's venting.

Heath falls silent, his voice warm when he finally speaks again. "Thanks, Brit. And how are you doin'? Arm not hurtin' as much?" Wade can just picture the soft grin on his lips as he leans back in bed to continue talking to him, his earlier doubts and worry fading away as he loses himself in their usual cycle of bickering with and talking to each other about everything under the sun.

The movie now behind him, Wade turns his full focus on rehab, his estimated recovery period coming to a tedious end finally. Heath's with him on what he hopes will be his final check up, holding his hand while they wait for the doctor to come in and tell them what's what. If he'll need a little more rehab or if that's it, if he'll be able to return to action shortly.

When he comes in finally, his expression gives nothing away. Heath squeezes Wade's fingers, both men holding their breath as he settles the file down on a nearby counter and glances back at them. "Congratulations," he finally says. "You're cleared to compete, Mr. Barrett."

The news settles over them like a warm, welcome blanket, Wade visibly uncertain how to react, if this moment is even reality, when Heath lunges forward and all but tackles him in a tight hug, laughing happily. "Brit! You can wrestle again!"

Arms automatically wrapping around the bright haired man, he looks over his shoulder at the doctor. "Really? Finally? I- I can return to the WWE?"

"Yes. Again, congratulations." The doctor smiles and ducks back out of the room to give them a minute as Heath, drawn by the rare uncertainty in Wade's voice, pulls away and cups his face, staring deep into his eyes.

"Still in shock, ain't ya?" he chuckles warmly, kissing him. "It's real, Brit. You're comin' back finally. We can travel together, and spend a lot more time together... It's gonna be great!"

And it is, really. For a few weeks, anyway. Until Jinder Mahal and Drew McIntyre run out during one of Heath's matches, beating down Brodus Clay. Wade watches, unimpressed, as the three men stumble backstage afterwards, coming to a sudden stop when Heath looks back and forth between the two others, a calculating look in his eyes. "What d'ya say, fellas? Wanna rock people's faces off?"

"Hell yes!" Drew smirks. "Part of the reason me and Jinder came out, we were hoping you would suggest something like that, Slater."

Wade's eyes narrow as they walk past the hallway he's lurking in, listening, none of them noticing his presence. Jinder is an odd inclusion to... whatever Heath may have brewing in that insane head of his, but of course... there's Drew again, taking first opportunity to ingratiate himself in anything to do with the One Man Band. He'd thought it was over, the two of them not being seen together for quite awhile, but yet... here they are.

His mood only darkens when he realizes this isn't some one-week-only thing, the three men even giving themselves the name of 3MB, alternating between singles competition and tag matches while he himself works towards the Intercontinental title. Although he's pleased with the degrees of success he's finding, it's all dampened by Slater focusing so fully on his new group, constantly partying with the other two men, filming random things and all in all completely distracted from anything outside of 3MB, so tired each night that he barely does much more than wrap an arm around Wade before passing out.

"I love you," he mumbles each time, leaving the Brit to stare at the ceiling, fuming, night after night.

Things continue to follow this path for the next few weeks, Wade growing grumpier and grumpier as more time passes, fueling his determination to become champion again. Despite how much he had despised those months, he almost finds himself missing the period of time he had been injured, because then it at least seemed like Heath cared enough to spend time with him, instead of constantly getting distracted by Jinder and... Drew... He'd even watch another one of those insufferable movies if it meant the ginger would actually spend some time with him.

It all crashes down around on him when he loses to Kofi Kingston, another chance at the Intercontinental title slipping through his fingers, that he loses it. Comes back to the locker room to find Heath gone, his teeth gritting. "Where is that ginger git?!" he snaps at a cowering Zack Ryder, his wrist tight against the shorter man's throat, pinning him to the wall.

"He- he left, with- with McIntyre and- and Mahal," he chokes out, scrabbling against Wade's arm. "Please bro, c'mon- that's all I know, lemme go-"

He does, roughly tearing himself away before kicking at the bench, glaring at anything and everything around him before he leaves for the hotel, too disgusted to wait or search the man out. He doesn't even bother turning the lights on when he arrives, throwing his bag into the shadows before collapsing onto the bed, digging his fingers into his hair, hating himself for even feeling like this, so dependent on Slater and his presence that he can't even think straight, much less compete normally... or sleep... eat... breathe...

He's still sitting there, staring into the dark, when the hotel door opens, Heath stumbling in laughing and muttering to himself, obviously drunk. This snaps the last strands of patience that Wade's barely holding onto, his movements jerky and angry as he turns the lamp on and glares up at the ginger, nearly vibrating with his restrained emotions. "Oh, hey, Wade," Heath says, slurring a little as he kicks his shoes off and walks over to him. "Whatcha doin' in the dark, huh?" He reaches out to brush his fingers through the dark hair, fingers grazing thin air as Wade pulls away and glares up at him, snapping through even his buzz. "Somethin' wrong?"

"Where do I begin?" he snaps, faltering only a little when Heath begins to look hurt. "Where were you tonight?"

Slater blinks a time or two, shrugs. "Out with Drew'n'Jinder, why?" When Wade's jaw only tenses even more, he frowns. "What is it, Brit?"

"How many times this past week have you been 'out with Drew'n'Jinder'?" he asks, mocking and cruel. He watches as Heath thinks, finally coming to the conclusion that Wade had been using to let the bitterness grow within him: Five nights. And the only reason they'd missed two was because of flights to events.

"I didn't-"

"How many nights have I laid here, waiting for you to come home, just for you to barely have the energy to even bother telling me good night before you passed out?" Wade demands, voice lowering as his anger is replaced by bitter sadness and loneliness. Heath, too, looks sad at this and he reaches out for his former leader, gaping when Wade all but slaps his arms away, glowering at him.

"Wade-" he whispers, brown eyes darkening sadly as the Brit stands and tries to storm away. "No, no-" he rushes after him and, before he can even get halfway across the room, wraps his arms around Wade from behind, not letting him move. "Please, I'm sorry," he mumbles against his shoulder. "I didn't know it- it was this bad, I was just... I was tryin' to make sure 3MB was gonna be successful. I'm sorry."

Wade stiffens against him and swallows, eyes closed as he feels the slightly drunken pressure of the ginger against his back. "Yes, I'm aware that 3MB is more important to you than-"

"No! Never," he cries out, kissing a trail along his shoulderblades and up his neck. "Ever. I just- I want the band to be a success, I want us all to gel well..." He runs a hand up Wade's chest, trying not to cry. "You gotta understand, sometimes I feel like 3MB is... is my last chance," he breathes. "I mean, after Nexus and the Corre, I just- I've been flounderin' and the... the last thing I want is to get fired'n'have to leave the business, leave you..." He breaks down here, tears pouring down his face and soaking Wade's shirt. "I didn't mean to make you feel overlooked, I didn't! I'm-"

"Stop," Wade breathes, his own eyes pricking painfully. "Just stop." He turns and eyes Heath, shaking his head somberly. "Silly ginger git, why haven't you ever just told me you were worried about all of that? It's still ridiculous but I can understand it a little easier than you just randomly wanting to spend all of your free time with McIntyre and Mahal." He smirks until he realizes that Heath is still crying, his face miserable and flushed drunkenly. "Come here," he sighs, wrapping his arms around Heath and pulling him close. "It's ok. We'll work it out. I promise. Stop crying."

Slater nods brokenly against his neck, trying to catch his breath and calm down. "I am sorry, though."

"So am I," Wade huffs, tangling his fingers in Heath's hair and making him look up. "Just... spend a little more time here, eh? Never thought I'd be forced to say this but... I miss you."

Heath pulls away, staring up at him with a slowly growing grin. "I've missed you too."

Wade huffs and pulls him close again, walking him backwards to the bed. "Of course you have, Ginger."

"I did!"

"Prove it, if you can stay conscious long enough," he orders, eyes gleaming as Heath drops back with a thump against the mattress.

"Then c'mere," he says, leaning up on his elbows and motioning to Wade, "and I will."

Time passes, Heath dividing his time much more satisfactorily between Wade and 3MB, the new trio still struggling to gain a secure foothold in the business as Wade turns his attention to the Intercontinental title and its current holder, Kofi Kingston. "Good luck," Heath offers him, kissing him slowly before he goes out for his #1 contendership match. "I'll be waitin' here when you're done."

"Good," Wade smirks at him, adjusting his wrist pads. "I'll need someone to keep all the well wishers away from me after I win." Heath rolling his eyes with fond exasperation is the last thing he sees before he walks out to the ring. But even when he wins, he doesn't really care about what anyone else thinks one way or the other- no one had really liked him since he'd formed the Nexus and tried to destroy the WWE, so he's not that surprised to find Heath the only one waiting to congratulate him, looking nonchalant even as he grins at him, walking slowly up to him.

"So about all of these well-wishes," he drawls lazily, wrapping his arms around Wade's sweaty neck and pulling him down for a searching kiss. "Will just one do?"

Barrett grunts and sighs against his lips, pulling away just enough to mutter, "I suppose," before tangling his fingers in Heath's hair and drawing him even closer, breathing him in as he celebrates finally getting his career back on track officially since his injury. And on New Years Eve, Heath is there once more, grinning even wider when Wade walks back after defeating Kofi again, this time with the Intercontinental title in his possession.

Heath laughs and hugs him, trailing his hands up and down his arms. "Congratulations," he says softly. Wade smirks and leans in, kissing him deeply in rarely felt pure happiness. "So... Happy New Years for you, huh?"

Wade smirks. "Yes it is, and it's going to be even better after this." Before Heath could say or do anything, Wade wraps his arms around him and drags him away for some privacy.

Later that night, Heath comes out of the bathroom, hair wet and a smirk on his face as he picks up the title belt and holds it close to his waist, turning to look at himself in the mirror. "I think I'd look good as Intercontinental champion."

Wade rolls his eyes, unable to keep from agreeing with him, though he'd never verbalize such things. Standing and sauntering over slowly, he takes the belt from him and lays it on the end of his bed before tangling his fingers in the wet strands of Heath's orange hair, pulling him flush against him. "Good luck with that one," he says sarcastically before kissing him deeply, his hands taut along Heath's back.

"I could- I cou- I..." Heath grunts as his repeated attempts at trying to respond are constantly interrupted by Wade's lips, finally causing him to give up on speaking as he sinks into the Brit. "Jerk," he mumbles before hooking his fingers in the unused belt loops in Wade's jeans, holding him in place as he presses against him. Wade merely smirks before once more losing himself in the younger man.

But things never stay simple or happy in the WWE, 3MB's luck becoming even worse as Wrestlemania comes and goes, Heath's unhappiness growing in time with their losing streak, the other two members far from thrilled as well. Which means Wade, who had lost his title at 'Mania just to regain it the next night, adding to _his_ frustration as well, sees more of them as a group while they try to work out what to do for things to go well once more, allowing him to observe them together yet again, adding to his discomfort. He's still far from thrilled with Drew's presence, his overbearing attitude whenever he's around Heath- or the look on his face when he is staring at the other man- making it difficult for him not to let his jealousy run rampant yet again.

Once they leave, no satisfactory conclusion found yet again, Heath turns to find Wade staring at him with a dark grimace on his face. "What's wrong?" he asks tiredly, sitting next to the Brit.

He doesn't want to say, knowing that it's a moot point by now, Heath proving long ago where his loyalty lies, but dammit... He shakes his head, releasing a heavy breath. "It's nothing."

Heath grunts, clearly not believing him. "Yeah, right, Brit." He watches him for a long moment before rolling his eyes. "Is it Drew again? Wade, I promise ya, we're just friends. I'd never hurt ya like that, and I wouldn't risk the band by allowin' matters to become complicated like that. Hell, you and I didn't really become a thing 'til Corre was dyin', so..."

Wade closes his eyes and sighs. "I may understand that, but I don't think he does," he grouses, trying to ignore the smug smile on Heath's face. "Stop looking at me like that, how would you like it if someone acted like that to me, without caring about our relationship, even if I didn't reciprocate?"

Heath hums as he considers this, shrugging slightly. "I'd be pissed, no lie." He leans over and kisses Wade on the shoulder before leaning up to press another to his lips, tugging on his jaw when he's not completely responsive, trying to tilt his face towards him and failing. "Fine," he sighs. "If it bugs ya so much, I'll talk to Drew. Alright?"

_This_ contents Wade and he nods, kissing Heath back finally. "You'd better, Ginger."

But he's not expecting how it comes about, watching from the back as 3MB is mauled by Brock Lesnar later that night, all of them tossed around a bit, but Heath gets the worst of it when he tries to re-enter the ring, just to second guess himself. He tries to escape but Lesnar is faster, more brutal, and he quickly grabs the other man, Heath's mouth gaping in mute horror as he's slung against the barricade wall twice, Barrett's mouth dry as he stares viciously at the monitor, Brock sending the ginger flopping limply to the floor after slamming him against the black padding, which only helps so much, his knees seeming to take the worst of the blows. _Everyone,_ no matter how they feel about 3MB personally, are wincing against the rampage, which finally ends when Paul Heyman talks Lesnar down, segues it into a promo against HHH.

Wade snaps back to reality as commercials begin to air, beginning to head towards the gorilla position, his lips held tightly when he walks through and finds the other members of 3MB now surrounding Heath at ringside, Jinder mumbling in Punjab as he holds his head... but Drew is the one keeping Heath upright, all but cradling him in his arms as the trainer begins to examine his legs, checking for breaks or anything worrisome before moving him. He's barely responsive as Barrett kneels down in front of them, dark blue eyes darting back and forth between McIntyre and Heath, holding his hands out towards the Scot, silently demanding Heath be handed over to him. When Drew doesn't seem to pay him any mind, he grits his teeth and continues to glare at him. "Give him to me," he demands lowly, not wanting to worsen Heath's agony by wrenching him out of Drew's grip, but keeping it in mind just in case.

"No, he's fine where he's at," Drew snaps back, looking down in some surprise when Heath stirs in his grasp.

"Wade," he mumbles, following the dark haired man's voice and reaching out for him. "Brit," he reiterates when Drew doesn't respond immediately, Wade staring at him in satisfaction.

"As I said, give him to me," he orders, watching with some smugness as the other man slowly lifts Heath up and allows Wade to scoot in behind him, taking Drew's place. "It's alright, Ginger, I'm here," he tells him, watching closely as he relaxes against his legs, lips parting slightly when the trainer prods a sensitive spot on his leg. Trying to sooth him by stroking his hair, Barrett looks up and watches as Drew purposely looks everywhere but at them as he walks around the ring to the ramp, ignoring Jinder's attempts at talking to him. "Hmph," he sneers. "I told you, Ginger. You have to make it clear," he tells him, finally turning his full focus back onto the other man. "Is he alright?"

"I think he will be- just sore for awhile. Let's move him," the trainer says, Wade ignoring all of them as he stands and lifts Heath in one fluid movement, his wild orange hair raining down around Wade's shoulder as he carries him backstage to the trainer's office, settling him down on the cot indicated.

Thankfully, by the time the trainer is done with his more thorough examination, Heath has come to, staring dazedly at Wade as he holds his hand and talks lowly to him, distracting him from the ice trying to ease the throbbing agony his knee must be in. They're still sitting there like that when the office door opens, Jinder walking in with a lurking Drew hovering by the door, both of them looking in varying degrees relieved to see their bandleader conscious, if a little loopy. Wade stares distrustingly at the Scot, who has the grace to not look at him still, his hands deep in his jeans pockets. When Heath speaks up, however, they're all surprised, three pairs of eyes locked on him.

"Can Drew'n'I have a minute?" he forces out, teeth still grit against the pain. "Just... to talk." He squeezes Wade's hand before slipping his fingers free, smiling faintly at him. "Please?"

Barrett stares at him for a long, tense moment before nodding briskly, standing. "Fine. I'll be nearby, if you need anything." He stares warningly at Drew before leaning over to kiss Heath lingeringly. After another moment, he pulls away and walks towards the door, watching Jinder until he hesitantly obliges, following Wade out into the hallway, leaving the two men alone as soon as he shuts the door. But he stays right outside, waiting and listening just in case Drew should try something...

Heath shifts, grimacing in pain as Drew stands awkwardly by, his eyes dark with something that Heath's not sure he's ever noticed before, wondering how Wade had seen what so easily had avoided him for so long. "We needta talk, Drew."

"I deduced as much," he says grimly, sitting down reluctantly next to the cot. "What about?"

"Us," Heath answers, watching as his eyes light up in some interest. "Or, I should say, the lack of us." Drew's brows furrow in confusion as Slater sighs. "Look, man, you're great, 3MB wouldn't be what it is today without you, and I owe you a lot, but... I love Wade and that's not changin'. He's been unhappy about how close you and I have been for a long time now, and I didn't think much of it until recently, but I- yeah, I'd say he has a point, especially after tonight." They sit in silence for a long moment, Heath releasing a pained breath. "Listen, you're still a valued friend of mine, and an important part of 3MB, but if that's how you're gonna treat him, refusing to let him come to me when I'm hurt... this can't continue." Drew still says nothing, tense, and Heath closes his eyes, sighing. "Listen, man, I really don't wanna hurt your feelings or anything, but this had to be said before you continued to think the wrong thing, or did somethin' that our friendship couldn't come back from."

He quiets, watching as Drew slowly stands up and brushes his hands off on his jeans. "Sure, Heath, whatever ya say," he says dully, walking towards the door. He pauses with his hand on the knob and turns to look back at the other man, lips twisting wryly. "I kinda figured this all out when I was holdin' onto ya and all you could do was call out for him. I didn't really need it spelled out past that, but thanks for tryin' to sugarcoat it. I'll see ya around, yeah?"

As he leaves, Heath drops back against the cot and closes his eyes, releasing a faint sigh. He has no idea what this will mean for 3MB in the future, but as Wade enters the room and settles down next to him, stroking his shoulder length hair, Slater can only deduce that, no matter what, it was worth it.

Later that night, after they return to the hotel, it's the throbbing of his knee that wakes Heath up, sniffing slightly as he tosses around in bed uncomfortably. The more he wakes up the more he realizes just how hot it is, struggling against the sheets tangled against his chest. "Dammit," he mumbles tiredly until he hears chuckles overhead, large hands helping to free him. He squints up a few moments before holding his hands out and motioning to Wade, smirking when the man sinks down into bed next to him and pulls him closer. "What're you doing, Brit? Watchin' me sleep?"

"Something along those lines, I suppose," he mutters, smirking as Heath chuckles. "So since you could barely keep your eyes open after that little conversation with McIntyre... how did it go?"

"It went as well as can be expected. I think he got the point," Heath says, not wanting to go into details and risk worsening things between he and Drew, or Drew and Wade. But his worry must still be clear in his gaze because Wade pokes his nose, staring down at him as he startles slightly, drawn from his thoughts. "What?!"

"What's wrong, then?"

Heath sighs, sometimes hating that the other man knows him so well. "I'm just thinkin'... what this all might mean for 3MB. 2MB doesn't sound quite right, if Drew should leave, but..." His slow building rambles are cut off when Wade leans in and kisses him. "Eh," he mumbles, kissing him back after a moment.

"I wouldn't worry about it, there are quite a few disturbed individuals in the WWE who would probably be easy enough to convince to join you and Mahal if it comes to that." His lips twitch when Heath glares up at him, visibly displeased with the wording behind this suggestion. "You'll be fine, I have no doubt," he finally says, easing some of Heath's annoyance with another well-timed kiss, trailing his hand down his throat.

"I guess," he mutters, digging his nails into Barrett's shoulder and smirking when he grunts a bit, easing back slightly. "Long as you're here, I'm good."

Wade rolls his eyes at the sappiness, shaking his head even as he silently agrees with the statement. "I love you too, silly ginger git," he finally concedes. Heath's quick grin makes him smile as well, the two of them settling down in each other's arms, content just to be together until sleep claims them once more.


End file.
